


The Secrets We Keep

by MethodMom



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Adoption, Andy’s confused, Eventual lesbian awakening, F/F, Family Feels, Governess Andy, Hurt/Comfort, She’s out, Slightly ooc Miranda, Slow Burn, Twins, she’s proud
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-11-28 01:17:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20958068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MethodMom/pseuds/MethodMom
Summary: Her father's dying wish turns Andy's life upside down in the best way possible.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Corasparasol (LastVerse)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastVerse/gifts).

> This will be my first attempt at writing mystery/historical fan-fiction (my favorite genre!) and the plot was inspired by a book I read when I was 12 and a prompt I accepted from Corasparasol.  
If you see any historical inaccuracies please, please point them out! This fic is un-beta'd (and barely proof read because it's late and I'm an exhausted mama of 3 kiddos) and I own nothing DWP. Triggers will be posted at the beginning of each chapter as needed.

“I just don’t understand.” Andy paced the hardwood floors of her father’s office. Nigel and her father Richard had been friends and business associates for as long as she could remember. He had been in attendance for everything from birthday parties to major milestones her whole life which made their plotting even more hurtful. “Why?”

“Andy,” Nigel began, his voice sad and begging for understanding.

But Andy didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. Her mind was consumed with grief at the loss of her father. At just twenty-seven, she was an orphan; she belonged to no one. The thought triggered something buried deep in her and the emptiness she felt was beginning to overwhelm her.

Nigel watched her with a concerned gaze as she held onto the back of the leather chair trying to steady her breaths. Andy had known Nigel since she was five. He had been there with her through the loss of her mother, her twins, and now her father. Nigel was all she had left in this world and her heart hurt even more knowing he was in on this plan.

“He loved you, Andy. He did.” Nigel’s voice was thick with emotion. Andy wasn’t the only one struggling with Richards death.

Andy scoffed. “If that were true, he wouldn’t have asked this of me.”

“Oh sweetie, it’s _because_ he loved you that he asked you to do this.”

Nigel remembered when Richard found out he was sick, and he’d come over to update his will. He’d tried to talk him out of it then, but it hadn’t worked. Richard was determined that Andy get another chance. The guilt he felt about the choices he’d all but forced her to make had haunted him and in his mind, this was the only way to make amends. “Just one year,” he’d said. “One year is all I’m asking of her. She’ll love it there.” Nigel sighed and agreed to execute his request once he was gone, a decision he was regretting now as he looked at the hurt and anger that simmered in the doe brown eyes of Richards daughter.

“And if I refuse? What then?”

Nigel sighed sorrowfully. “Then your inheritance is locked until you are thirty-five.”

Andy lips trebled and her eyes stung with unshed tears. She and Nate had separated three months ago. Andy had moved in with her father to care for him and though she knew the divorce was coming she hadn’t expected to get the papers so soon.

Nate was the ideal man for her, even her father had agreed, so when he proposed on their one-year anniversary, she’d said yes. Theirs was a sensible type of love. Comfortable, easy, non-threatening. It also didn’t hurt that he was an associate at Nigel’s firm.

Now though, with the impending divorce and all her accounts tied up, all she had to live on was the inheritance her father had left her. _With strings,_ she thought to herself painfully, like he believed she was unable to take care of herself. And maybe he was right. Afterall, her life was in shambles right now. Unbeknownst to her, in the weeks leading up to his death her father had sold his home and all nearly all his possessions. Not only did she not have family anymore, she was homeless…penniless. Her father had once again forced her into making a choice she didn’t want to make. His choice.

“Andy, it’s only one year,” Nigel urged. “At the end of which you will be a very rich woman.”

Rage burned within her. Her whole life she’d done what others had wanted her to do; what her father wanted her to do. After her mother died, she assumed nearly all of the household responsibilities and her childhood has ceased to exist. She cared for her grieving father and sought solace in the quiet freedom of books. Gone were the carefree days of dress up and make believe.

She didn’t care about the money. She wanted her _freedom_. “I don’t see the point, Nige.”

Nigel agreed. “Neither do I. But New York is a big place, sweetie. He only required one year. During that time, you were to look for your grandmother. I doubt he believed she was still alive; more, he just wanted you to find out what happened to her when she disappeared.”

“He should have searched for her when he was here.”

“He should have done a great many things while he was here,” Nigel lamented.

“So what? Now I’m meant to search for her in his place?” Andy screeched. “To what end? What will this accomplish?”

“I don’t know.” And he didn’t. “Truthfully, I think he just didn’t want you wasting away in this big house all alone after he was gone. He was trying to give you back your life, Andy.”

“By taking away my ability to choose for myself what my life should be?” Andy seethed, “well wasn’t that sweet of him.”

She desperately needed to be alone. She needed space to process what her life had turned into and where to go from here.

Nigel pulled out a set of keys and laid them atop a manila folder on the desk. “These are the keys to the place your father arranged for you to stay. The rental agreement is in here also.”

Andy picked the keys up, the bright red high heel key chain heavy in her hand, and she stifled a furious giggle at the pure absurdity of the situation.

“I’m so sorry Andy. I know this isn’t what you wanted but he honestly believed that this was a chance for a fresh start for you,” Nigel confessed, his voice soft and hopeful. “Maybe it will be.”

Nigel gave Andy a quick hug before taking his leave, the look on his face saying he needed some space to grieve as well. Just before he walked out, he called back to her. “Oh, Andy, I nearly forgot,” he motioned to a box in the corner. “That box holds all the information your father had about your grandmother, along with all of her possessions. Call me once when you decide.”

She nodded and turned back to the windows of her father’s office. She always believed that this place would be hers one day. Andy had hoped that she and Nate would raise their children here but that was not meant to be. Andy never managed to get pregnant again after the twins. Doctors sighting something called ‘unexplained secondary infertility’. It was just one of the many reasons that Nate gave her for wanting a divorce. It was just one, but it hurt the most.

She didn’t want to do this. She had no desire to go traipsing through the past or searching for a truth that was most likely long buried. But… If she did, she would inherit enough money to be financially independent for the rest of her life. She picked up a framed photo of her mother off her father’s oak desk. What would she do? She was always so sure of herself, so confident, she would know what to do. Andy closed her eyes and opened her ears desperate to hear her mother whisper some advice.

When no sound came, she kissed the photo and placed it back on the desk. She took a deep breath and paused momentarily to question her choice before dialing a number she had memorized long ago. “Nige," she exhaled. "I'm in."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing DWP and I'm a tired mommy. Any mistakes are mine alone.

Andy had never been to New York. She wasn’t impressed. 

She may have felt differently if it weren’t for the attempted mugging just minutes after disembarking her plane or the strong smell of urine in the streets. As if that wasn't enough, the city was too loud and too busy and within minutes of being outside the airport terminal among the hustle and bustle she had a terrible migraine and was ready to give up and go back home.

She sighed to herself… Going back wasn’t an option. What did she have to return to aside from the quiet solitude of the country? An ex-husband and quiet, lonely nights on Nigel’s couch? No. She was worth more than that. She was worth more than what her father and Nate believed her to be. 

Once upon a time she had wanted to be a reporter. As a child, Andy had grand dreams of traveling to exotic places and solving mysteries. She and her parents would play clue on family game nights and she would fall asleep dreaming of adventure and intrigue and true love's kiss. She was absolutely convinced that being a reporter was the perfect career for her. Of course, she was only eight years old at the time and Lois Lane was basically her idol. But now, she realizes how silly and fanciful those dreams were. Oddly, or maybe not if she really thought about it, her dreams of adventure along with her childhood innocence died the same day as her mother. Saddened by the memory but determined to reclaim her life, she took a decisive step in the only direction she could; forward.

~

Andy’s heart was pounding in her chest as the cab pulled up next to a large, somewhat imposing townhouse. She looked at the piece of paper in her hand once more to verify that it was the correct address; 129 E 73rd St.

Yep, this was it.

Located on the upper east side of Manhattan, the five-story home with a Spanish style roof commanded attention, and it certainly had Andy’s. She stepped out of the cab and retrieved her luggage from the trunk before turning to face the place she would call home for the next year.

So many emotions were swirling through her, but she refused to let fear win and blinked back the tears stinging her eyes. She could do this. She could. Maybe. Hopefully. Oh god, what if she couldn’t do this?

She shook her head trying to dislodge the negative thoughts gripping her mind. With tentative steps she walked through the ornate wrought iron fencing that framed the front of the town home and knocked on the door. The sound echoed in the relative silence that had suddenly ensconced the street and the only response was the faint sound of a dog barking. Though whether the sound came from in or outside of the house she couldn’t tell.

The manila folder that Nigel had given her included a copy of her father’s will and detailed instructions for the plans her father had made for her. _Bastard,_ she thought to herself as she waited for someone to answer the door. In the letters she had exchanged with one M. Priestly they had decided on the day and time of her arrival. Andy, at least, was considerate of that and had arrived as agreed upon, which was more than she could say for M. Priestly whoever _he _was.

To add insult to injury, her father had appointed this person as executor of his will. Not only did her father insist on dictating her life while he was alive, he had managed to find someone else to do it for him for at least a year after he died. How could someone agree to controlling another person’s life like that? _Two bastards_, she mused as she ventured around the side of the townhouse looking for another entrance.

As Andy rounded the corner, lost in her righteous indignation, a soccer ball flew by her face, narrowly missing her, and a blur of red hair crossed her vision before their bodies collided. The momentum from the young girl’s body propelled them both backward and Andy had just enough time to wrap the child protectively in her arms before the two hit the ground with a loud thud.

“Ow, shit!”

“Cassidy! Language!”

“Sorry, Cara.” The girl apologized to the woman behind her and carefully moved off of Andy, “also sorry to you. Who are you anyway? Why are you in our yard? You a reporter? Mom doesn’t like it when you guys hang out in the yard. You should probably leave before she gets here.”

The young girl fired out question after question and Andy struggled to keep up with the conversation, her head still spinning after the fall. “Uh, No. No, I’m not a reporter.”

“Ooookay. Who are you then?” Andy didn’t miss the curious gleam in the young girl’s eyes as she asked. And Andy, for some reason, felt a strange sense of familiarity with the gaze that held hers right then.

“Andy. I’m Andy.” she replied.

“Andy?” The older woman had caught up to them now. “As in Andrea Sachs?”

“Yes, I assume you knew I was coming.”

“We did! We did, oh dear, I was hoping to be back before you arrived. Nothing to do about it now I suppose. Let’s get you inside and settled. I’m Cara,” she said and reached out a plump hand and pulled Andy up off the ground and Cassidy helped grab her bags. "Nice to finally meet you."

“Nice to meet you two as well, Cara. Cassidy.” Andy brushed the grass and dirt off her plain grey wrap around dress. “I’m Andrea but, please, call me Andy.”

Cara regarded her before giving a warm grandmotherly smile and nodded. “Very well Andy, let’s go on in.”

~

The barking she heard before had come from inside the house as she learned when she walked through the front door with Cassidy and Cara and was nearly bowled over, yet again. However, this time it was by a great beast of a dog they called Patricia. The dog politely nudged her hand seeking attention and when Andy knelt down, Patricia took that as permission, giving her a face full of enthusiastic, albeit slobbery, kisses.

“Now, now Patty, settle down. Let’s give Miss Andy some space.” Cara pushed the dog down before clipping the leash to her collar and handing it to Cassidy. “Why don’t you take her out back for quick walk and I’ll show our new guest around.”

Without any fuss, Cassidy took Patricia and scampered of down the hallway toward the backyard. Andy was finally able to turn her attention to the interior of the townhouse and wow… It was decorated in such a way that bespoke wealth and status. Andy was no stranger to fine things. Growing up with her father as a well sought-after corporate attorney assured that she wanted for nothing (except maybe her freedom). But Andy’s eyes darted here and there, taking in the lavish surroundings, and felt genuinely out of place.

A variety of art and family portraiture adorned the walls and each room was decorated with warm, neutral creams and grey’s. Occasionally, Andy would notice a blue accent chair or a purple throw pillow. But even with it’s minimalist décor, which often times came across to her as cold and sterile, Andy sensed and underlying feeling of warmth, and comfort, and serenity. Clearly the interior decorator was talented. When she'd arrived, the home had felt oppressive. It loomed over her, or maybe that was just the weight of all her life’s choices that had manifested themselves as an upper east side manor she couldn’t escape. _Sigh_…

But the inside, well, it was surprisingly opposite. Welcoming and peaceful and comfortable.

Cara moved them along all the floors, pointing out the drawing room, the many bathrooms, and the main living spaces like the kitchen and dining area. Her bedroom was located on the fifth and highest floor along with the girls' bedrooms and an additonal study/office area where she would be conducting their learning activities.

“This is where you’ll be staying, Miss Andy.”

Andy opened the door and stepped in. It was a large room but unlike the rest of the house, this room was sparsely decorated. There was no art to speak of and aside from the sheer lilac curtains dressing the window there was next to no color. Andy ran her hand over the desk that sat in the corner of the room before her gaze landed back on Cara.

“The girls have had many governesses,” Cara explained sheepishly. “Not decorating the room seemed like the wisest choice."

Andy’s eyebrows rose at the mention of her new title. Governess. She was now officially a _governess_. If her father weren’t already dead, she would have killed him for doing this to her. The folder she was given had outlined not only the crazy task to find her long lost grandmother but, her father, in his infinite wisdom, had also lined up a job for her. As part of her yearlong stay in New York she was to be a governess to two girls. What does a governess even do? Was she basically a glorified nanny now? She didn’t know the first thing about children… God, this was a mistake.

“What do you do here, Cara?”

“I’m the housekeeper. I've worked for the Priestly's for nearly 20 years.”

Andy felt like she’d been sucked into some alternate universe. Who even employed Governesses anymore? They weren’t living in a Victorian era novel for christ sakes. A snide smirk crossed her face as she sat down on the four-post bed in the room, _rich people, that’s who._

“Dinner is served promptly at 7 p.m. each night and here is the intercom. Don’t be afraid to call if you need anything at all.” With that, Cara left Andy to ‘freshen up’ after her long trip. Andy looked at her wristwatch, it was a little after 5 p.m., which gave her a couple of hours to unpack and settle in before her new “Master” got home. She hated him already.

~

Andy felt better after a shower and dared to venture out into her new home before she was summoned down for dinner. She could hear giggles coming from the kitchen on the floors below and decided to start there.

When she walked into the open space, she immediately noticed Cara. Her short, rounded frame hovered over the stove and she was lovingly slapping greedy little hands that were attempting to steal some fresh baked cookies.

“Stop that, you two! Those are hot!”

“Come on, Cara. Just one? Pleeeeeaase?”

Andy saw the moment the woman’s defenses fell. The twin pouty faces were formidable, and she snickered as she made a mental note that she’d have to steel herself against them or be taken advantage of herself.

The snicker drew the attention of all three and Andy fidgeted in the entryway, smoothing down her dress and picked off invisible lint.

“Andy!” Cassidy called out, forgetting about the cookies for a minute while her twin sisters gaze intensified.

“Girls, there’s no yelling in the house, you know the rules.”

They both rolled their eyes before beckoning her over. “Come sit with us. Here, you can have this stool.”

Andy plastered a big smile on her face, hoping it looked more confident than she felt, and made her way to the stool. As she passed, the woman at the stove leaned in and whispered, “careful now Miss Andy. Those two are scamps, don’t let the innocent smiles fool you.”

Andy grinned and whispered back, “Solid advice, thanks Cara.” The woman nodded and gave a warning glance to the girls before she went back to stirring the pot in front of her.

Cassidy scooted over to give Andy some space and her sister, which she knew to be Caroline from the letters she’d received, just continued to stare at her. And, like before with Cassidy on the lawn, Andy felt a familiarity with the girl. With both of them. It was disconcerting and caused Andy’s smile to falter before she spoke. “Good evening, Cassidy. Caroline.”

Caroline’s eyebrows raised at the mention of her name and a small, but pleased, smile graced her lightly freckled face.

“Good evening.” The two said in unison, giggling at the formality.

“Girls, go and set the table, please. Your mother will be home soon, and I imagine she’s going to be ready to eat when she gets here.” Cara pointed to the cabinet and the girls hoped down from their stools. “Be sure to grab an extra set for Miss Andy,” she reminded as they scampered off, dishes in hand. The old woman muttered to herself as she transferred the soup from the pot to the bowls.

It hadn’t occurred to Andy to ask about the “master” of the house yet. Come to think of it she hadn’t seen pictures of the man in the house at all, only pictures of the girls and what she assumed was their mother. Just as she was about to ask, she heard the front door close and Patricia’s excited bark rang out through the house. On cue, the twins ran through the kitchen and into the foyer to greet their mother. They were long gone before Cara's command to stop running could reach their ears.

“Mom!”

“We missed you!”

Andy straightened herself up, hoping she looked presentable enough, and took a deep breath to calm herself. But the breath got caught in her throat when she looked up into the bluest eyes she had ever seen.

The woman who had walked into the kitchen was fierce. There was no other way to describe her. Well, there _was_, Andy thought, but she was utterly and completely confused about why the womans piercing gaze caused butterflies to erupt in her tummy.

‘Mom’ walked through the kitchen toward Andy, stopping for a moment to greet Cara with a soft pat to her shoulder. “Cara, how are things this evening?”

“Oh, they’re fine Miss Miranda. Caroline got home from her piano lessons about an hour ago and Cassidy did well at soccer practice today.”

Miranda. Could this be the M. Priestly that she had been conversing with? Surely not.

“Good, good. And who is this?” Miranda asked, gesturing toward Andy, giving the brunette her full attention.

Andy couldn’t stop the heat that spread through her under that appraising gaze. It stole the air from Andy’s lungs and rendered her unable to speak.

“This is the girls’ new governess. Miss Andy.”

Rather than try to speak, Andy lifted her hand and gave a slight wave. Miranda raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow in response.

“Andy?” Her nose wrinkled as she spoke her name. “I think not. I am expecting a young woman named Andrea.”

So, _she_ was expecting her. M. Priestly was Miranda and not Michael or Mitchell. She’d had it all wrong from the beginning. She had been expecting a harsh, domineering, man and instead she got well… She unexpectedly gotten a gorgeous woman with hair white as snow. Desperate not to dwell on why this woman had elicited such a strong reaction, Andy cleared her throat and attempted words. “Th-that’s me ma’am. I’m uh…,” she swallowed hard and tried again, “I’m Andrea.”

“I should hope that you are more articulate when teaching my daughters, Miss Sachs. You know several languages do you not?”

“I do ma’am.”

Miranda cut her eyes at Andy. “I am not a ‘_ma’am_’. For the duration of your stay here, you will call me Miranda.”

Andy nodded. “Ok, and you can call me Andy.”

“No.”

“Bu—”

“No, no. That topic is no longer up for discussion, Andrea. Now, I do believe it's time for dinner. Come along."

Andy bristled at the finality of Miranda's tone. She'd spent her whole life being told what to do and wasn't about to let this woman pick up where her father and ex-husband had left off. But the sultry way Miranda said her name did funny things to her insides and she found she didn't mind the formal pronunciation that much. So, for the sake of keeping the peace on the first night in her new home, she decided to let it slide this once and dutifully followed them to the table.

~

Dinner was a strangely formal affair with three courses and next to no conversation. Maybe it was just her but the whole meal felt awkward. She hadn't known the two young girls very long but they seemed subdued compared to how Andy had seen them in the kitchen with Cara. After desert was served, which Miranda declined, she announced she was retiring to the study for the evening, something about 'The Book', and it was clear everyone in the home understood she was not to be disturbed.

Andy offered to help Cara clean up the dinner dishes and once the twins had gone off to prepare for bed Andy asked about Miranda.

"So, what's the story with Miranda?"

"Story?" Cara asked as she plunged a dirty pot into the steamy dish water.

Andy continued to rinse and dry the dishes that Cara passed her. "Surely, that isn't how they eat dinner every night. Was it just because I'm here?"

Andy saw Cara's gaze turn pensive before she stopped washing and gave Andy her full attention. "No, it's not just you. Miss Miranda has been through a lot the past few years and it's caused her to withdraw a little..." She sucked in a resigned breath. "Well, truthfully, a lot. Please, try not to be too harsh in your judgement of her Miss Andy. Honestly, she hasn't been the same since her wife passed away nearly ten years ago. It's like her inner light just went out and she changed. As you saw tonight, she can sometimes be um...difficult. But deep down she really is very caring, and she loves her children more than life itself. Even if she struggles to show it. Just give her a chance and you'll see."

Andy had heard the housekeeper's gentle plea but her thoughts had become transfixed on a single piece of information Cara had given her. Miranda had been married...to a woman.


End file.
